


Future Christmas Dinners

by Wetislandinthenorthatlantic



Series: Tumblr Prompts to celebrate 60 Followers [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF Molly, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Mollcroft, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:36:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2174919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wetislandinthenorthatlantic/pseuds/Wetislandinthenorthatlantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeanine calls Mycroft "Myc" 17 times. It annoys everyone except for Molly ... who has a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future Christmas Dinners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Clio_Trismegista](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clio_Trismegista/gifts).



> I do not own these characters. This work is purely for entertainment.
> 
> ++++++
> 
> This was from a prompt to celebrate 60 followers " .... if John or someone else called Mycrof, Myc and Molly didn’t get why everyone was baffled, laughing, terrified, etc…. "
> 
>  
> 
> I have written two versions -- and this is the first one.
> 
> It is very short and very fluffy ...

While helping Molly tidy up, Mycroft was so angry he couldn't speak. Earlier in the evening there had been six of them for dinner to celebrate Sherlock and Jeanine’s engagement: John, Mary, Sherlock, Jeanine, Mycroft, and Molly. 

The party had been fine. No childish bickering between brothers. No snide comments from John. It had all been fine. 

Except that Jeanine had insisted on referring to Mycroft as “Myc” -- a total of 17 times. 

Every time Jeanine uttered the name “Myc” John flinched like he had been hit with a stun gun. 

After the seventh "Myc" Mary found each utterance sounded like fingernails being dragged down a chalk board. 

Even Sherlock started to wince by number 15. 

Interestingly enough, while it was happening, Mycroft remained above it all. If Jeanine was doing it to elicit some sort of reaction he was not about to play that game. 

But now … once the audience was gone … he was seething. 

The only person to whom the shortening of the distinct “Mycroft” into the common “Myc” didn't seem to bother in the slightest was Molly.

***  
Loading the dishwasher Molly called out to Mycroft, "I don't see what the problem is. She has a nickname for you. So what?" 

Entering the kitchen with his hands full of dirty plates Mycroft returned Molly’s comment with a steely look.

"She is just one of those women who insist on shortening everyone’s name. She even calls me “Mol” and Mary “Mar.” Who shortens Mary?" Molly had scrunched up her face and raised up her hands to signal disbelief. 

Returning with his hands full of wine glasses Mycroft's expression has softened but he still made no comment on what had transpired earlier.

"Don't you dare!" Molly planted a wet finger in the middle of Mycroft’s chest; leaving a mark on his shirt. "I know that look. You have just put her on the tax audit list. That is NOT how to fix this."

A sheepish look slowly spread over Mycroft’s face.

Taking a deep breath and folding his arms across his chest Mycroft fixed his gaze on Molly, "Go on."

"You have to beat her at her own game."

Raised eyebrows signalled for Molly to continue. 

"To start, give her a puppy and tell her his name is Dickenson."

A small smile began to spread across Mycroft's face. 

"Then of course there are the children's names,” Molly continued to fill the dishwasher. 

"The children's names?" 

"Obviously. Family names which you would insist must be used for your beloved nice or nephew. Cynthia for a girl and Horatio for a boy. Unless it's twins of course."

"Twins?"

"Samuel and Ella. Or Samantha and Ella. Sorry I haven't come up with two boys names yet. I’m sure if you set your mind to it you could come up with some spectacular additions to the list.”

Visions of future Christmas dinners at a table filled with children all sporting off-colour nicknames brought a full smile to Mycroft. He would happily put up with Myc if this is what the future held. He looked over at Molly as he gently shook his head. It's always the quiet ones... 

"You are deliciously wicked Molly." Mycroft drew her into a hug. "I trust you will be joining me at future family events to enjoy the spoils of your evil plan. The look on my mother's face will be priceless."

"Are you proposing?" asked Molly with a smirk.

"I'm admitting that I'm too afraid of you to breakup with you."

Standing on her tip-toes Molly planted a kiss on Mycroft's nose and returned to filling the dishwasher.


End file.
